


Look at the Fire (And Think of Me)

by doc_boredom



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Lore Building, M/M, Mythology References, We never know, Work In Progress, also aether is a bastard man on main great great great, and gets it like A LOT, and glorified satanism parading at christianity, and kind of self indulgent, but you bet your ass it'll get saucy, dewdrop back at it again with the inappropriate commentary and innuendo, greco-roman mythology mind you, i mean isn't that just everything i write, it's always a good time here, it's implied copia like.... can get it, maybe other pairings to be added?, this shit supes serious, twrpclub, you saw how the last one of these was tagged stfu and let me live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:23:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doc_boredom/pseuds/doc_boredom
Summary: "I wish to talk of doorways, and strange happenings across worlds. Yours and others.” She let herself lounge into the couch, every movement she possessed languid and unhurried despite her weighty words. “You stumbled upon something that should have never existed in the first place that night.”Phobos gulped.Hellmouth.-A continuation of Hellmouth, with much higher stakes and even more characters to love -wink-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hellmouth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668001) by [doc_boredom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doc_boredom/pseuds/doc_boredom). 



> Aye if you didn't catch it is a sequel to Hellmouth, which you can peep above if you want a little more understanding and context. Otherwise, this is a bit of a short first chapter, but there's plenty going on. Enjoy <3

It started as it always did, a fond chuckle, a silken whisper.

“ _Älskade_.”

“Dewdrop.” Phobos murmured back into the vastness of his deep slumber, lips unfurling into a smile. Another laugh rang out, closer this time, and from out of the gloaming came quicksilver and flame. “Back so soon?”

“It’s impossible to stay away when it comes to you.” The flame shaped itself into something more tangible but not exactly as Phobos knew it. Dew’s true form, broken horned and fire bright. It grinned at Phobos, feral and quick, and danced around him with inhuman grace. “Don’t tell me... you’ve grown tired of these visits of ours, you wish me gone.” He lamented dramatically.

Phobos spun a moment too late, his fingers catching on the air. “Don’t start.” He warned, no actual heat in his words. In fact his smile was growing as he watched the lithe figure round him once more. “Come here.” He urged instead.

The fire was gone an instant and suddenly Dewdrop was in his arms, masked in silver and _real_. “You’re always so much more demanding in your dreams, Phobos.” Dewdrop purred in a please way, his too hot hands sliding across his sides.

It was different here. Just them and the impossible swelling space of his chest and lungs. In the real world there were rules and reasons as to how things had to be, but in dreams anything was possible. They had found this space together on accident as they had drifted off one night speaking to one another, Dew’s voice fond in his head.

-

_“Älskade.” He had hummed, voice throaty with oncoming sleep. “Do you ever dream?”_

_They had talked about a great many of things since their parting at the Hellmouth. Of their own past’s and present’s too, of first songs learned upon the guitar and favorite foods. Dreams though? Phobos had laughed and turned onto his side, staring up at the fairy lights ringing his room. “Nightmares, usually.” He spoke truthfully softly across their bond. Of a fire that was somehow more hellish than Dewdrop’s, it’s choking smoke and impossible rage._

_A fire to consume his entire life, his entire soul._

_“Well that simply won’t do.” The ghoul sighed, causing Phobos to smile despite the encroaching memory._

_“I’m surprised you do, if we’re being honest.” He was damned, after all. Dreams seemed like something his kind shouldn’t be capable of, or sleeping, for that matter. Phobos yawned and burrowed himself further down under the heavy weight of his comforter before his antennae perked. “Wait, do you?”_

_“I do. Of you, more often than not.” He could hear the other smirk. “Under me, naked.”_

_“Shush!” Phobos hissed out loud before he could help himself. He snuck further under the covers even though no one was around to hear him. Everyone else was sleeping, at least, Phobos hoped they were. Knowing Sung though, he was probably up working on something, some kind of gadget or song..._

_And just why was he thinking about Sung right now? Phobos shook his head at himself before letting himself fall back into the conversation. The ghoul, it seemed, was still rambling on. “...Moaning my name...” He said, tone bored._

_“Dew!” Phobos squeaked in response, causing the other to laugh in a way that could only be described as ‘evilly.’_

_“Like that, but lower, almost a held back groan,_ _ä_ _lskade.” The fire ghoul purred, any sign of boredom done away with. “You make for such a pretty picture every time.” Gods, his face had never felt so warm! Phobos let his head pop up from his hideaway, huffing to himself and willing his flush away only for Dew to sigh in such a way that his heart ached with it. “...But I also dream of home.”_

_The glare smoothed itself away from his features. Home. Just like him. Dew knew of how his home had burned away to nothing by the hand of Meouch’s father and his crew, knew of how his now companion and best friend had torn the very wings from his back._

_He knew too of how Phobos returned the favor weeks later by plunging a sword through his heart._

_“Nine lives.” Phobos had explained when Dewdrop had spluttered his disbelief at how Meouch was still standing after all of that._

_“Cats.” He had spat back, no hint of fondness in his voice._

_“Do you mean with the Clergy?” Phobos ventured, almost positive it wasn’t that._

_“Sometimes, yes, sometimes no.” Dew gave a tired laugh. “Can we talk of something else?”_

_And that was the joy of whatever it was that they had. It was so simple for one of them to signal that they were tired of the topic at hand and wanted to move on. Grief had a way of becoming that way over time, it seemed, no matter how large the wound gaped._

_Phobos switched over to his other side, grateful for the coolness of his pillow. “We ought to sleep.” He told the other. Time always seemed to fly by so quickly like this. “If I fall asleep standing up during practice one more time Sung’s going to flip.”_

_“Your little star singer has nothing on Mountain or Swiss, Phobos.” He too sounded tired, his words going mumble-soft at the ends. What he’d give to curl himself into the other in this very moment, let sleep take both of them. His lids were falling though, the promise of a good night’s rest coaxing him along._

_“What about the girls, or the Cardinal?” Phobos managed another yawn, antennae curling._

_Dew gave a tired laugh and their link became hazy at the edges, melting away. Sleep was imminent. “Those three? They’d never lay a finger on me.”_

_He didn’t laugh back because sleep had taken it’s claim. Dew’s laugh echoed in his head though, so soft it almost didn’t seem real. “I swear when we’re like this it’s like I can reach out and touch you…” Dew mused._

_And then, somehow, he did._

_Phobos eyes snapped open not in his bedroom but somewhere else. A place that didn’t seem entirely sure if it could exist or should, for that matter. The Lepid’s mouth fell open at the realization only to be covered moments later by the ghoul’s. Days, no, weeks without kissing Dewdrop and it came back to him as easily as any melody traipsing in the back of his head. “I’m dreaming.” Phobos managed between a passing of their lips. He reached up to touch Dewdrop’s mask, fingers smoothing across the too sharp cheekbones in disbelief and wonder._

_Dewdrop smirked back, his own hands cupping his jaw. “No,_ _ä_ _lskade, we are.” He told him before leaning in to kiss him again._

-

“I can’t help it.” Phobos admitted. The dream had shifted around them, shaping itself into something familiar- The Bordello and it’s mismatch of neon and art deco. Sometimes it was a stained glass cathedral, sometimes it was under the dappling of a hundred thousand trees, sometimes it was just a stage, plain and simple. The best had been when it had taken the shape of Ladyworld. Dew had thrown himself into the endless ocean with a delighted howl, only coming back to Phobos once the tide had returned him cackling to the shore.

“Is that right?” Dewdrop mused, tapping his tail against his thigh. “Then why don’t you show me all the things you can’t help, Lord Phobos.”

The Lepid’s gave a shuddering breath. There were images in his head, some of them belonging to the ghoul and some of them belonging to him. Memories too. A mask made of gold, liquid courage, the raw heat pouring of the fire ghoul as he pressed him down into the couch. “ _Hoc est corpus meum._ ” Dewdrop had whispered to him that night, so fondly and so sweet.

_This is my body._

He had told Sung everything when he got back, which had been like telling Havve everything as well. Their bond was more intricate than his and Dewdrop’s, more equal across the board. Shared pain, emotions, thoughts, the ability to wall each other off…

That’s what you get for dealing with demons, Meouch told him only for Phobos to flip him off.

Phobos pressed himself against Dewdrop until there was nothing to keep them apart. He heard the other sigh in a pleased way, his arms wrapping themselves around his neck, tongue sliding across the seam of his lip, begging entrance-

Only for the ghoul to disappear from his arms.

Phobos stumbled and whipped his head around the room. “Funny.” He said, more for his sake than for Dew’s. Something felt off, but that wasn’t right. This was a dream, after all. Nothing ever went wrong here. Couldn’t. But his chest felt tight, his lungs straining as the panic settled in... “Don’t be a tease, Dew!”

There was something wrong about being alone here. The space seemed to swell impossibly, becoming bigger than it had any right to be. Just wake up, Phobos told himself, and try again. But he couldn’t. Whatever held him here was stubborn and refused to let him go. He drew in shaking breath, squeezing his eyes tight. Wake up, just wake up!

He didn’t find the waking world when he opened them up again, but a door.

“Of course.” He told himself, a jagged laugh leaving him. Just let yourself out. Someone must have woken Dew up without warning, leaving him here, Phobos reasoned. The Lepid reached out, heart calming with the fact as his palm touched upon the doorknob.

“Aurem.”

He paused and so did the world around him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He hadn’t heard that name in years.

The only reason he was able to turn was because it wasn’t _his_ voice. Wasn’t Deimos. Wasn’t _Lalune_. No, it was a woman’s, triple layered over itself. She sat primly at the end of the couch in great swaths of silver and black. Like Dew, he thought absently, his brain not sure what to make of her. Her lips spread themselves into a fond smile as she leaned forward, dark lashes falling in a wink. “Or should I say _Lord_ Phobos.”

He swallowed thickly, frozen in place upon the marbled floor. She reached out, the neon lights of the Bordello playing off her dark skin. “My sweet boy.” She said fondly before her brow pinched with worry. “I suppose this comes as quite the surprise.”

“Who are you?” Phobos rasped.

She sat back, silvered eyes shining with amusement, her braids shifting down her bare back. “My name is Hecate, and you and I have many things to talk about tonight.”

-

Dew startled awake.

Around him the monastery was achingly dark and achingly quiet. Perhaps everyone had been called to ritual, or perhaps they all still slept. _Älskade_. He called across their link, trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened.

All was quiet in response.

Not good.

 _Phobos?_ He tried once more, and the same silence answered back. His insides twisted up frantically, but Dew forced himself to sweep his legs out of his bed instead of laying there uselessly. The stone floor was cold against his bare feet, and for a too long moment all Dewdrop could think of was how much he missed the church. Their church. His second home. The one he was all too fond of bringing Phobos to in their shared dreaming. At least they weren’t cramped up in some awful tour bus. Copia always found places of forgotten worship when they travelled to summon them into, more often than not drafty stone monasteries and decrepit bascilas, places that no hellion such as himself or his fellow ghouls had any right to be.

Speaking of fellow ghouls... “Aether.” He called as he zoomed down the hallway, hoping the larger guitarist would appear at the calling of his name. If they were already at the ritual he’d be in trouble, but it didn’t matter because his damn bond was on the fritz and something in him was growing more certain that Phobos could very well be in danger with each passing second and-!

“Morningstar, Dew, what are you doing up at this hour?” He had summoned Cirrus instead, it seemed. The taller female ghoul made for a strange sight in her silver mask and skin baring nightgown, but she didn’t seem to care in that moment. She was too angry for that. She cut a glance back into her room before sighing irritably at him, slouching herself up against the door frame. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know.”

“I thought it was later, that the morning ritual had begun...” It was a half admittance, half lie, prompted by the not so silent judgement rising off of her. Her posture shifted at that, becoming softer almost as she stepped out into the hallway, as quiet as a whisper compared to his earlier stomping around.

“You and I both know you don’t give a damn when it comes to rituals, Dewdrop. Does this have to do with your _avhållen_?” He didn’t respond and that was answer enough. She grinned, reaching over to tweak his left horn. “Young love~” She sing-songed.

Dewdrop pushed her hand away, feeling his cheeks heat, grateful that his mask hid the sight of his blush. “Hey, did I wake you up or did something else, just a little bit ago?” He blurted before he could help himself.

She cast her head to the side, tail swishing curiously. “You did, Dew. Why?”

Great. His stomach revolted once more. Dew took a moment to push down his panic, fixing the front of his shirt instead. He fell asleep in his clothes all time with the Lepid nowadays, and normally came to practice rumpled and out of sorts, a fact that none of the ghouls let go. “I was... asleep and dreaming with Phobos, and suddenly I was pushed out, no warning. I can’t connect with him either.” He gulped nervously, tying his tail around his middle. “I’m sure Aether has the answer, but I just thought maybe I wasn’t the only one.” He trailed off and looked away, hating how pathetic he felt.

The ghoulette gave a sympathetic noise, grimacing under the cut of her mask. “I see now, _lilla du_. Cumulus is still fast asleep, that’s why I came out to yell at you.” She touched him once more, her cool palm cupping the slant of his jaw. “I’m sure everything is fine, but if you’re truly worried, go wake Aether. He’ll understand why once you explain.” She paused and gave a sudden snort of amusement. “Knowing that one, he’s probably still up.”

He gave one of his own despite the awfulness of the situation. “True.”

It should have been as easy as picking the right doorway after he left Cirrus and announcing himself, but Aether was Aether, which meant he wasn’t going to be where he ought to be no matter what. They were too alike in that way, shifting from one place to the next without warning, ever creating chaos. The rest of the sane ghouls had sequestered themselves off to specific rooms after being brought to the monastery, but the spirit ghoul didn’t stay in one place for too long. Too many places to explore, he had told Dew with an elbow to his ribs when they arrived on the first day before bolting off.

Any other time the fire ghoul would give a little sniff at the challenge before digging into the hunt, but there was Phobos to think of, and time. How much time had really passed since he had been flung from their dreaming space? Too much, far too much. “Aether, you bastard, come on.” Dewdrop hissed as he ran down the hallway, his footsteps echoing after him. “Stop playing games, this is serious!”

“I didn’t think you knew the meaning of that word, little ember.” It wasn’t Aether that spoke to him from the shadows…

...But the Cardinal himself.

-

Hecate.

A goddess.

How? Or more so, why? Phobos laughed harshly, unable to help himself. “I’m sorry, I think you’re looking for Sung-” He started only to have Hecate hold her hand up.

“You should be glad I hold you in my favor, little Lepid. Not many can find themselves as they once were after trying to correct a literal god.” Her lips tipped into a smirk as he realized with a wash of horror what he had just done. “I can’t fault you though. I know this comes as a surprise, rightly so. We don’t traipse the mortal plan all too often.”

Hence his suggestion of Sung, the blessed star singer. Tasked with keeping the Universe balanced and whole. Still, he stayed his tongue and tilted his head towards her. “What… do you want?”

“I wish to talk of doorways, and strange happenings across worlds. Yours and others.” She let herself lounge into the couch, every movement she possessed languid and unhurried despite her weighty words. “You stumbled upon something that should have never existed in the first place that night.”

Phobos gulped.

Hellmouth.

Sometimes it’s verses still drifted through his dreams. It’s call, really. The Lepid shuddered, unable to help himself at the unspoken implication of Hecate’s words. “And as you know, entrances and passageways are things that I care deeply for.” Phobos wasn’t sure if he would call her smile pretty. It belonged to a predator, to an ancient thing that had years to perfect it to lure lesser beings in.

He shuddered again, unable to shake the feeling that he had been caught, a moth in a spider’s nest.

The goddess stood and approached him, her fingers grazing across his cheek as soft as the wind. “Those foolish mortals ripped open a new pathway between worlds, and while your quick thinking closed it, it inspired lesser beings to create their own as well. Across space and time, revealing things best forgotten by time and man.” She smiled again but this time it was slow and sad. “You are to be my champion.”

He nearly scoffed before remembering himself. Sung. She really, truly meant Sung. He was not meant for such things. Phobos was made of softer stuff. His throat bobbed and she saw it, following the action with her now blood red eyes. “I’m not-” He started, his lungs feeling tight even in this dreaming state.

“You are.” She whispered back, nearly a hiss. “Your elders dubbed you a universal emissary. Your destiny was to bridge the space between stars, to bring these worlds together-”

“Along with everyone else!”

He hadn’t meant to scream it at her, or maybe he had, because how else could he face that fact without rage or regret? He was the only one left, by sure luck and chance. Titania, Io, Charon, Deimos… they were all gone, and he was left here without wings, without purpose, without meaning, drifting among the stars. “Never… never alone.” Phobos panted, become aware of the fact that he was suddenly out of breath. “Never by myself.” He whispered as the tears welled up.

Hecate stood there silently, her expression crumpling. “Sweet boy.” She murmured, but before she could come closer he stepped back. He could feel the doorknob digging into his spine, the cool press of the wood.

Phobos brought a hand up to his cheeks, rubbing furiously at the tears that had gathered there. “I’m not who you’re looking for.” He couldn’t be, even in the presence of her power and threats. “I’m just not.”

“Phobos.” She started but he was wrenching the door open and throwing himself into the light that spilled out from it.

Into the waking world beyond.

He was soaked with sweat, his sheets tangled around his body like a vice. He heard movement at his door and then Sung, hurtling into his room like an errant shooting star. His hair wild, his core blindingly bright as he stumbled and tripped, either a product of being caught off guard or half asleep. “Phobos.” He heard the empath splutter as he came up again. “What-”

“...Just a bad dream.” He tried to reassure the other. But it was Sung, and that meant that there was hands on his shoulders in an instant, smoothing back his hair. He tried to shy away but the older boy held on tight.

“Don’t lie to me.” Sung said, his voice soft.

He wanted to laugh, wanted to cry. He forced himself to speak instead. “Something happened.”

“Dewdrop?” Sung’s brow furrowed, an assumption beginning in his head that Phobos was quick to squash.

“No, someone else.” The Lepid swallowed against the fire and ash that seemed to forever remain in his lungs. Sung cocked his head to the side and in the shadows Havve made himself known, red eyed and dangerous as always.

“Gods above.” Phobos finally managed, unable to say anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally have nothing to say. hope you enjoy it cos it sure as hell took me by the hand and said "we're going this direction now." and i said s u r e

The Prince of the Church had brought him to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. For his nerves, supposedly. 

Sometimes it was hard to remember that the man standing before him was their leader. There had been three others before him, all strange and unique in their own way, but Copia himself was incomparable. The very same man that could beckon them into existence with nothing but the blooded power in his veins and their true names upon his tongue, who led their clergy to truth and power all in the name of the Morning Star now stood before him in a matching nightgown and robe, with a little nightcap and embroidered slippers to top it off, the lines on his face etched there by smiles instead of frowns.

He was muttering to himself absently in Latin, only to switch over to Italian halfway through as he approached the cooling box. “Cardinal.” Dewdrop said, his tone borderline petulant. He couldn’t-shouldn’t- _ wouldn’t _ rush the man, but his veins were alight, his brain a fine mess, not yet having caught up to him. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” He chose to say, hoping that would be casual enough.

“Oh no, no. I was up.” Copia paused his digging, throwing Dewdrop a sly smile over his shoulder. The ghoul didn’t miss the way the milky white of his left eye glimmered with the fact. Which ghoul had he taken to bed this time, Dewdrop wondered absently. Not that he’d ever, even before meeting Phobos, but apparently the Cardinal known to be both generous and skilled in bed.

Morningstar, help him. He didn’t need to be thinking about that right now.

“I heard you scampering about the hallways earlier. You seem to be quite upset.” The milk carton looked absolutely comical in Copia’s hand, illuminated only by the flickering candles placed about the dim dark room. These older places always lent themselves to amusing them with what they lacked, and yet Dew couldn’t find it in him to laugh. 

Dew’s very being had begun to ache at Phobos’s absence. He could only watch in complete silence and growing disbelief as the Cardinal approached the stove and poured the milk out into a pan, knowing that if he opened his mouth a rage filled scream would come crawling out. “I was just looking for Aether.” He ground out between clenched teeth, checking himself.

“I’m aware.” Copia hummed back, flicking the stove on. Immediately the flames began to whisper to him, begging him to help them grow and grow.

He’d do it this time, only to speed things along. Fire that was not his own was always such a temptation, one that called far too often. At least he had grown used to endless flames that lit the monastery sconces, almost as old as the stones themselves. “Do you know where he’s hiding?” He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if Copia told him the quintessence ghoul was still warming his bed. Any other night maybe, but tonight was already too much. 

“Does this have to do with your link, Dewdrop?” A question for a question, it seemed.

The flames jumped a little higher, fanning out from underneath the metal as his pulse skipped. “We were dreaming and I was kicked out. Now I can’t get back in.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he ended up shoving them into his pants pockets, looking away from the Cardinal’s heavy stare. “That’s why I wanted to talk to Aether.” Matters of the spirit and soul were his forte, after all. He’d be able to figure it out.

At least Dew hoped he would.

“Perhaps it’s just natural, the distance…” The Cardinal’s voice was not unkind. He was simply musing as he added other things to the pot, clucking his tongue absently. “Literally another world away, and the fact that you are both two very different beings… I don’t mean to hurt your heart, little Ember, but you must consider-”

He opened his mouth to speak, to  _ rage _ , and fire spilled out instead. 

Immediately Dewdrop covered the open part of his mask with his hand, as if to push it back in where it belonged. How  _ embarrassing _ , and in front of Copia as well... 

The Cardinal raised his brow just so before turning to stir his odd concoction, sighing over it. “It has been ages since you’ve done that. When you were just a  _ liten sak.  _ A _ piccola cosa _ . Barely grown into your horns and tail, no heavier than a bag of flour.”

“You weren’t-” Dewdrop finally found his voice only for the spoon to be shoved at him, causing him to startle back.

“Nihil and Imperator were.” Copia mused back with a fond smile. “They told me many things about all of you ghouls, little secrets and facts and tidbits abound. How do you think I handle you all so well? Now go on, taste it, tell me what you think.”

It wasn’t just warmed up milk, Dewdrop discovered when he relented and touched his tongue to the concoction. There was clove and cardamom, cinnamon and honey mixed into it too. “It’s good.” The ghoul admitted under his breath, unable to keep himself from sounding still somewhat sullen. 

The older man huffed and waggled his spoon in a vaguely threatening manner. As threatening as a spoon could be, Dew supposed. “‘It’s good.’ He says. Am I pulling your sharp little teeth, Dewdrop? Is it really that hard to say ‘yes Copia, it’s very delicious,  _ grazie _ ’?”

“Cardinal…” Again, embarrassment had started to take hold, but his gaze did not waver, pining Dewdrop. Morningstar. “It’s good. Very,  _ very _ good. Thank you very much.”

“Copia.” The older man said innocently, an afterthought.

“Hm?!” 

“You never call me Copia. Always ‘cardinal’ to my face, like we haven’t spent years together bonding, getting to know one another, like you don’t say it to all your little ghoul friends.” He lamented, lips pulling down dramatically. Dewdrop blinked behind his mask once, twice, the flames spluttering awkwardly to a fizz in response. Hadn’t he just been running around like a madman trying to find Aether? And now somehow he was in the kitchen with the leader of their church, being guilted for treating him with reverence and respect? Was this really happening? Maybe  _ this _ was a dream. Or perhaps some kind of waking nightmare.

Copia was still talking, either unknowing or uncaring of his internal plight. “-and every broken guitar string and lost pick! Not to mention that time when you damaged your horn, or when you thought you got that one girl-” 

He had reached his breaking point. His sanity at it’s limits. This was the hell that most people feared, wasn’t it? “COPIA. PLEASE. THE MILK. AND AETHER, IF YOU WILL.” He begged through clenched teeth. The older man’s eyes glimmered with amusement, lips curling with a smirk before he went about pouring the milk into mugs and gesturing for Dewdrop to follow him.

Aether was not in Copia’s bed, thankfully.

He was in the bell tower instead.

His guitar was laid across his lap when they found him too high above them, his mask turned towards the moonlight that slid through the holes cut into the stone. “Hullo, Aether!” Copia called up to him, but he didn’t so much as look at them, his eyes still trained on the night sky. “I’ve brought you Dewdrop, and he’s brought you a treat.” 

Dewdrop bit back a sigh and stepped forward, tail lashing impatiently behind him. “What’re you up to there?” He yelled at the larger ghoul, fingers clenching involuntarily around the mug. Finally Aether’s head tipped towards them, his dark eyes flashing with amusement from behind his mask.

“ _ Dreaming _ .” He called down airily with a too sweet smile, causing Dewdrop to jolt and bare his teeth.

Bastard. He _ knew. _ “Don’t.” The fire inside him was building up again, demanding to be let out. Ever since Phobos and the Hellmouth it had been more temperamental, rising and falling alongside his moods, like a living flame looking to burn him from the inside out. But he  _ was _ fire. More so than any other fire ghoul before him. It couldn’t hurt him or anyone else for that matter.

He wouldn’t let it.

The milk had come to a boil in his hands despite his best efforts though, hissing and spitting on his behalf. He was half tempted to dash it to the ground and storm out, but Dewdrop forced himself to stand his ground and wait. For Phobos, he told himself, you could put up with this for him. He could wait.

He saw a flash of teeth as Aether put his guitar down- heard him give a short and wild laugh. No. He wouldn’t. “ _ Don’t _ .” He said again as it bounced around them, just as forceful the second time around. But there was no stopping Aether. 

Especially not when he stepped out onto the air and let himself fall.

The cardinal didn’t move. Probably did not so much as blink as Aether plummeted to the floor like some kind of twisted angel. And neither did Dewdrop. Not at first, at least, not for a little while even. It took him ten seconds for him for him to put the damn cup down and catch the other ghoul before he hit the ground. “ _ Skitstövel! _ ” Dewdrop growled over the other ghoul’s booming laughter, knees nearly buckling out from under him at the sudden weight. “You fucking idiot! You could have hurt yourself!”

“A trust fall is a trust fall is a trust fall.” Aether hummed, booping the end of Dewdrop’s nose. Aether then tumbled out from his arms without any kind of warning, letting himself roll across the dusty floor until he reached the cardinal. “Hello, Copia.” He chirped pleasantly.

“Hello Aether.” The cardinal said, with too much fondness for a bastard who had flung himself from several stories above without any kind of a plan. “You’re getting your nice clothes dirty. Stand up now. You’ve made Dewdrop upset.” He was fretting, circling them like a mother hen. Dewdrop ignored him and folded his arms over his chest, glaring up at the larger ghoul as he tapped his foot impatiently. “Now, ask him your question, Dew.” Copia said, voice coaxingly soft.

“But my treat.” Aether whined before he could even open his mouth.

“It’s  _ milk _ .” Dewdrop informed him in a withering voice, not missing the way the cardinal gave a little gasp of hurt shock. “...Copia made it special.” He added as an afterthought, trying to soften the blow.

“With cinnamon  _ and _ honey?” Aether asked excitedly, tailing all but wagging behind him. The cardinal smiled and nodded, leaning in to whisper all the rest of the ingredients as well, leaving Dewdrop standing there, mouth agape. He knew. The cardinal knew and Aether did too and they were conversing over milk and honey when Phobos could be-

Could be-

What?

Gone, lost, dead? Dead, dead, dead.

The fire inside him reared up and roared.

“Morningstar!” He screamed without warning, shatteringly loud. “Shut up!”

Dew’s voice didn’t even get the chance to echo back on itself before Copia’s hand struck him. The fire ghoul’s head snapped to one side and his entire being emptied out in an instant, to the point where even his flames banked. 

They’d never touch me, he had said to Phobos once upon a time, laughing it off, thinking it to be an absolute truth. Never. He had thought himself endeared, loved, untouchable...

It had to have hurt the older man more than it hurt him, Dewdrop realized over the ringing in his ears as the world righted itself once more. Flesh against metal, bare skin against open flame, but his expression was unwavering. “Apologize.” He demanded in his softest, most threatening voice.

Now  _ this _ was the cardinal most imagined upon hearing their cause, hard eyed and savage, unforgiving. It took a lot to get this side of him to come out and apparently Dewdrop had finally managed it. Good, something awful in him thrilled at the fact. They weren’t benevolent creatures, feathered and golden. They weren’t messengers of God. They were hellspawn, demons, the night’s children… their leader ought to represent that fact.

He gave them both a knife’s smile from under his mask. “I will when you do. You both know what’s happening. Don’t act like you don’t.” He turned on Aether as he spat, smile dropping instantly. “And despite that you ignore me, speak over me. Bullshit.” 

Copia’s mouth thinned out but Aether closed his eyes and inclined his head gently. “...You’re right, Dewdrop. I’m sorry.” They were both quicksilver and hot headed, but there was a softer side to the spirit ghoul that liked to show itself more often than not. He was like the empath Phobos knew, Doctor Sung, tuned into the way their emotions shifted, their wants, their fears, their needs. “I should not have done that.”

Dewdrop breathed out, tasting ash on his tongue. There was still a fight in him but he would take it and move on. For now, that still eager thing in him purred. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for shouting at you.” He didn’t quite look at Copia as he said it, equal parts anger and shame. “I’m just…” Upset, scared, going out of my damn mind...

“Worried.” Aether supplied immediately, making his life easier. “I understand. I felt you all the way from here when you woke up.”

Then why didn’t you do anything? Why did you hide from me? Dew curled his toes inside his shoes, trying to keep his cool, waiting for Aether to finish. “The bond is still there though, Dewdrop. It’s still intact.” He told him gently.

Relief flooded through him, loosening the growing tightness in his chest. “Thank the morningstar.” He whispered under his breath before whipping his head towards Aether once more, not caring how desperate he seemed. “But if that’s the case, then why can’t I speak to him? What’s going on?”

Aether’s hand came up, lighting his fingers upon the side of his mask with a thoughtful noise. Digging. He was digging into his head, into him, trying to get a better sense of what was going on. “Something’s tying it up and keeping you out.” He explained slowly. “On his end, not ours. Erm, yours, I guess.” The larger ghoul fell a step back and folded his hands together, frowning heavily. “I know it seems impossible right now Dew, but I wouldn’t worry unless it lingers past today. There’s nothing we can do right now otherwise.”

A whole day of sitting on his hands, completely useless as whatever happened happened. He hated it, but what else could he do at this point? Aether was right…

Dewdrop swallowed thickly and didn’t dare meet the cardinal’s eyes as he accepted it for what it was. “Okay.” He managed out as the bell tower began to toll. “Okay.”

-

 

Meouch found them huddled up at the kitchen table in half light and silence. He took one look at the tea cupped in Phobos’s hands, the slant in Sung’s brow, and the knife laying in Havve’s hand before sighing and taking the last seat at the head of the table.

“Alright, what’d I miss?”

“Oh, boy, you’re gonna love this.” Sung said in an awful, taunting voice. “You of all people, Meouch, are really just gonna get a kick out of this one for sure.”

“Fuck off and die, Sung. What’s he going on about?” The Leoian’s eyes met Phobos’s across the span of his table and it took all he had not to shudder in response. “Phobos-!”

He whispered his impossible truth out for the second time. “I spoke to a god tonight.” 

Meouch’s nostrils flared and next to him he could practically  _ hear _ Sung grinning. “What’d I tell you? I told you-!” Sung was crowing, pounding his fists on the table.

He ignored the empath, leaning over the table as if to get up into Phobos’s face. “Don’t fuck around with me, Phobos.” He growled softly. Poor Meouch. He was so practical when it came to things like this. Sung’s star singing, the link the empath shared with Havve, or the way he could sense their emotions... Even his own nine lives weren’t things the commander liked to think about, much less  _ talk _ about. 

The first time he had brought up his personal bond with Dewdrop and everything that had happened with the hellmouth the older male had thrown up his hands and walked out of the room, yelling over his shoulder “that’s nice, but no thanks!” at Phobos, finishing the conversation for the both of them.

“I’m not.” Phobos insisted. The cup the tea was in was almost too hot for his hands, but if he closed his eyes and pretended, it could almost be Dewdrop’s heat, so he kept them there, letting the sharp warmth steady him. “Hecate, she-”

“Who?” Meouch blurted, incredulous. Havve kicked him under the table, his optics dimming with a silent threat, as if the knife still in his hand didn’t do that already. “We’ve been over this, Hogan, this isn’t my thing. It was probably some kind of bad dream, anyways.”

“Don’t be a dick, Meouch.” Sung shot back, also kicking him. Unlike Havve, Meouch wasn’t afraid to kick Sung back, even going as far as to show his fangs as he did. “At this point it’s expected, get with the program.”

“Gods, don’t say it like that. That’s just asking for trouble.” The Leoian moaned. He was probably right. They were naming far greater things than they had any right to. Giving them meaning and presence in their lives. “So what did this… Hectate want?”

“Hecate. And she- I-” His lungs fluttered and Phobos sucked in a hurried breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have run out from that dreaming world, but he hadn’t been able to stand it. It had been too much too suddenly, and there was the fact that his link was still painfully silent.

He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

He’d start somewhere else, then, make his way there by other means. “Before… the Funk incident.” This, too, was why it was hard. Because of how his past tangled up with Meouch’s, because of the direct hand the other had in just about everything awful that had happened in Phobos’s life. It was impossible not to see the way Meouch’s pupils slitted as his claws shot out, his ears pinning back before he schooled his features into bored indifference. None of them did. “We were going to be Named, the names we chose for ourselves that day, and then the elders were going to turn us out into the stars.”

Emissaries for their planet, their kind. Hand picked and chosen to represent the best of their kind. “It was just for  _ us _ though, after we closed ourselves off.” A choice by the elders once it was found out their secrets were being sold by too curious visitors, their plants and medicines altered for all kinds of awful purposes. 

Like Funk.

They were all watching him with varying forms of sadness as his words tightened at the ends, his breath coming up short. They all knew this story. You didn’t live with the same people for nearly ten years for them not to know the most intimate parts of you. He had turned fifteen that day. Meouch had been eighteen, with poisoned veins and a shattered heart, and Sung and Havve… they had been worlds away, the empath sixteen and the robot only a few years old, still fresh faced and sorting out their link.

Phobos took a deep breath and pushed the rest of what needed to be said out. “She said… she said it was my destiny to bring worlds together.” That’s what she had been saying when he cut her off, at least, he realized with a hint of guilt. “And I kept telling her she was thinking of Sung.” Star singer, peace bringer, the universe’s safe keeper after all. Sung had even said that when he had first told him and Havve, but no… no it was  _ him _ she wanted. Phobos.

_ Aurem. _

He tightened his hands on the cup, wishing he was strong enough to shatter it with his bare hands.

“She mentioned doors though, and you dealt with that with Dewdrop, Phobs.” Sung said in a soft, careful voice. As if he knew the weight of his words would crush Phobos if he didn’t take his time with them. “Not that like, ‘m not gonna help you when we get this all figured out. We’d all help you, of course! Right Meouch?”

Meouch bristled immediately, his fur fluffing up at the accusation in Sung’s words. “What do you mean, ‘right Meouch?’ What’re you trying to get at?” He snarled, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair to glare at all of them.

Sung sniffed and threw Havve a mischievous glance. The robot’s eyes merely flickered and in the silence they shared the empath began to grin. Meouch, of course, became even more pissed of at this and Phobos really couldn’t blame him. “Don’t pull that telepath shit. Use your words!” He growled, nails digging into their poor kitchen table.

“That’s vaguely ableist against Havve, commander. I think you owe him an apology.” Phobos couldn’t help it. He smiled at his cup. Despite everything his friends were the same. Constants.

But he was missing the most important part of him now.

“I’m worried about Dewdrop.” Phobos blurted. The silence had gotten to him. Had been getting to him since the moment he woke up in a panic in darkness before Sung came crashing in. “He just disappeared.” 

Sung reached around and grabbed his shoulder, hugging him close. “We’ll get it figured out. Maybe… we gotta visit that Junker where you two first met, do some digging there.”

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.” Meouch groused. Grumpy, grumpy… but when wasn’t he? His stage presence was so different. A wild thing who was all too eager to lose himself in the lights and anonymity and the unwavering pulse of his bass.

Sung was undeterred, as usual. “Havve can set an autopilot so we’ll at least be there by the morning. I think that’s as good of a starting point as we’re going to get.” Havve nodded and stood, taking only a moment to reach over and fix Phobos’s hair with his cold fingers before ghosting out of the room. “You feeling better, bud?”

“Dumb question.” Phobos gave him a sideways smile, causing the empath to snort. He knew. Knew that while he had settled down that his nerves hadn’t quite caught up. Or maybe slowed down was the better wording to use. “I’ll be okay.”

Sung’s hand went to muss any progress Havve had made with his hair and then he was gone too. It was suddenly just him and Meouch. The two most opposite beings in the universe, the strangest of friends…

“This always comes to bite me in the ass, doesn’t it?” Meouch said a bit bitterly, his expression becoming distant.

“Wasn’t you.” Phobos countered immediately, throwing the rest of his tea back. There had been too many drugs pumping their way through Meouch, not to mention years worth of abuse by his father’s hand as well as the rest of his crew, the  _ Panthera _ . “Don’t start.” He did his duty and kicked Meouch under the table, completing the circle. The older male closed his eyes and sighed, the right corner of his mouth twitching, as if half tempted to break out into a smile. “It’s been ten years. It’s in the past.”

He just hoped it stayed that way.

Meouch finally shoved out of his chair and told Phobos to sleep well before leaving the kitchen, but the thing he could imagine or even wanted was to go to bed. It was so late though, and there was nothing to do but sort through his feelings and thoughts alone.

And how better to do so than with his guitar in the endless stretch of space?

In the cockpit of their stars sailed by overhead, winking in and out beyond the clear glass. A bridge between stars… emissaries... his mind taunted him in Hecate’s voice. Tempting him to delve further in. But he blocked it out, pressing Dewdrop’s guitar pick to the strings and playing the first thing that came to mind. 

It wasn’t a song meant for the stage. It was a song meant for dreamers to share. A rising and a falling, a wingeded thing. It wasn’t entirely the same without Dewdrop to play alongside him, but it was something, and something was better than nothing right now.

Phobos played until his fingers hurt, until his lids were heavy and he had no choice but to close them and slip into whatever awaited him on the other side. Whether that be Dewdrop or fire or Hecate’s dark smile and strange, haunting demands, he did not know. 

He could only let him claim him fully. Completely...

“Hello, Lord Phobos.” Said a man with two faces when he finally opened his eyes again.

“Gods.” He swore before he could help himself, a fool’s mistake given his last experience with Hecate, but one gave a high and pealing laugh in response and it was so much like Sung’s that he couldn’t help but relax at it.

“You’re not wrong.” Said the young and smiling one,obviously the one that had laughed. The strange man was metal and shining on one side, verdigris and tired on the other. Copper. A copper god with two faces standing before the door. Janus. God of beginnings and endings, dualities and time. “One of many.” He said with a secret smile.

“One of few.” The other seemed to murmur to himself.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a pessimist, always looking backwards!”

“Realist, and I’m reflecting, idiot.” The older, bearded man reprimanded him, slowly coming to life. “There’s a difference, you know.”

The gleaming boy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Sure there is.” 

This was going infinitely better than his meeting with Hecate. At least, so far. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Phobos drew himself up to be taller, hoping to appear bigger, braver even. They noticed and smirked in their own awful ways, causing him to shrink back down to his normal size.

“How interesting.” The older version of the god mused, his eyes rolling towards Phobos, studying him with a patina gaze. “Hecate’s champion, eh? Your name rings in our hallways, Lord Phobos. Even Jupiter and Juno know of who you are. Or perhaps you know them as Zeus and Hera? Too many names, none of them right…” He trailed off, seeming to lose the thought as he went along.

“Again, ignore him.” The younger half pulled a face. “Glad to see that you’ve made your way back to us. It was rumored we’d be calling in Somnus to bring you back to this realm.” The sleeping realm? Phobos narrowed his eyes, antennae twitching furiously as he tried to make sense of the situation…

_ Someone summoned us here, to this strange world of yours, filled with strange gods and suspended disbelief. _ Swiss had said that on the Junker, his voice rough and low, something like judgement ringing in his words. A world that the gods had forgotten, had all but  _ abandoned  _ until now. So why? Why now? Why him? “One would assume you’d like back in.” The younger one offered blithely. 

Dewdrop wouldn’t falter. He’d blaze in the face of these gods. He would burn bright. Phobos steeled his spine again, filling his lungs with as much as air as he could. Do not falter. Do not bow. “Do I?” Dew would play these god games and win by any means necessary. The older half’s eyes found his again and lit with interest as the younger one blew a frustrated raspberry. “Or is that what you want?”

“It would be beneficial to us all if you just said yes.” The older side sighed irritably. “I would not suggest that you make yourself Hecate’s enemy simply because you wish to be willful and proud,  _ Lepid _ .”

“Not to mention Dewdrop is on the other side!” The other side cut in cheerfully, waving both of their arms about. “He’s worried, you know. That you’ve been hurt, taken by something he can’t tear apart.”

“What about Hecate? What about what she wants?” Phobos didn’t miss the way both their eyes narrowed, silent rage blooming from the inside out. They were  _ gods _ . They were capricious, either by their own making or by the passage of time, but the fact remained. These things were not his friends. They did not have his best interest at heart.

But Dew… Dew was on the other side. Phobos knew that much was true in his heart of hearts.

Win. Win by any means necessary. Even if he had to leave the waking world behind for just a little while. Even if he had to do it alone.

For Deimos, and for Dew, he would be their champion. Their bridge between the stars.

“...Tell me what I need to do.”


End file.
